Five Times Percy Said I Love You Too
by eternal-state-of-voorpret
Summary: And the once he said "I love you."; Or in which, Percy and Annabeth are absolutely, irrevocably in love -and know that-; yet feel the need to state it every five minutes.


**DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS, PREMISE ETC. BELONGS TO RICK RIORDAN**

 **1**

The first time was when they were fourteen, a beautiful green shroud burning between them; scars, deaths and strands of grey hair marking victory.

After a night filled with dancing and -after a ridiculously long time- _normalcy_.

Luke has jumped off a cliff, they've saved Artemis, a 2000 year old Huntress has dispersed into a splash of diamonds across the sky, a sister has died, they've found out that the Lord of the Underworld does have living children.

Yet none of them really matter apart from the fact that she's alive, her grey eyes boring holes into the marshmallows they're roasting, as if they need more fire. Her blonde hair has been tied up in a braid, swinging as she turns her stick, head bent down.

They've changed, a fact Percy can't ignore, though he desperately wants to. It's a beacon of what's coming, though he'd really rather live in blissful oblivion.

"Your s'more is on fire."

Her amused, slightly lilting voice cuts through the onslaught of thoughts, as sharp as an arrow blessed by Apollo himself. He looks up, even though he's aware that the topic of conversation is the now charred stick lying on the ground in his hurry to put out the flame.

She shakes her head a little exasperatedly, a small smile lighting up her face. She mutters something that sounds like _Seaweed Brain._

"Oh." He says, though it is old news. "My bad. Pass a marshmallow, Annabeth."

"You forget the magic word." She sing-songs, waving her marshmallow-on-the-stick at him.

He acts like he's going to snatch it from her. He relishes the sound of laughter she emits, for the first time that night though the cheerful façade may mislead anyone who doesn't know her well.

He does.

"Okay, _fine_." She relents at last, when he pulls the puppy dog face on her, something his mother says works quite well. She hands him a white marshmallow. He accepts it, his nervous system dancing the Congo line, his heart racing, his stomach doing flip-flops.

He suddenly isn't hungry anymore, and wonders if he ever was.

She's looking at him expectedly, so he wolfs down the marshmallow. He's aware of most of the other campers trudging back to their respective cabins, of Lee Fletcher stop instructing the assortment of Apollo campers and other cabin members gathered to sing at the campfire.

"I have to sleep." Annabeth says, as she rises from her spot on the ground. "Goodnight."

Percy jumps to his feet, and tries to convince himself that the next words that tumble out of his mouth are because of the influence of Sally Jackson and not of his own accord. "Let me walk you to your cabin."

Annabeth looks surprised and mildly impressed. "Oh. Oh, okay."

They make their way to Cabin Seven in silence, the squeaking of their shoes the only source of sound.

"Thanks." She says as they reach her cabin. She grins at him. "Who would've thought _you_ would be such a gentleman."

"I don't know whether to feel insulted or complimented."

He is gifted a two note melody in the form of Annabeth's laugh. She gives his hand a little squeeze. "Anyway, bye. Thanks. Goodnight." She leans in and whispers in his ear, the soft tendrils of sleep dragging her deeper into their embrace. "I love you."

And like that she is gone, disappearing into the Athena Cabin, leaving Percy grateful for the cold, dark night, which covers up his red face and soothes the adrenaline rush.

It feels good to hear it, though he's sure that it's got to do with Luke committing near suicide and the exertion of the day. It still feels nice.

He has no control over the next words that rip out of his throat either, and this time he's sure his mother has nothing to do with it.

The snapping wind carries his words and eventually separates the syllables, but he still clamps a hand over his mouth and casts a frantic look around the place, afraid of who might have heard.

"I love you too."

 **2.**

The second time, he is sure is a hallucination.

He's aware of pain and a soft, melodious voice, which while pleasant, is not familiar. The voice is soothing, and the burning smell- and _feeling_ \- is ebbing away.

"Sleep." The voice- a girl, he realises- instructs. "You need it.'

He groans and turns over, the bed creaking under his weight. The girl clicks her tongue in annoyance, but he cannot care less.

"Come on." The girl says as she pulls him straight again. Her voice is authoritive and a little accented, kind of like a Huntress who he knows all too well. Or at least, did.

"Who are you?" Percy manages, disoriented. As an answer, he gets something shoved into his mouth. He still can't open his eyes, but he doesn't need to, the taste of popcorn fills his mouth. He knows better, its Ambrosia. But the girl isn't Annabeth.

"Calypso." The girl replies, once she finishes assaulting him with popcorn flavoured ambrosia. He doesn't mind, its popcorn after all, but she could have at least _asked_.

"It's a weird name." he observes; he never was known for his tact.

Calypso snorts. "So is yours. Perseus Jackson. Seaweed Brain."

He gapes at the general direction. At least he hopes.

"How do you-"

"Know?" Calypso asks. Except she doesn't. It's a different voice now, its Annabeth."Oh Seaweed Brain."

It rips him apart, the realization, when he wrenches open his eyes. He cannot rely and trust his ears anymore. But this is worse.

He's crashing downwards, and he can still feel the adrenaline rush, not because of erupting, but because the kiss he's had minutes ago keeps coming back.

It is not a hallucination.

Nobody says anything, but he can not help it. He answers anyway, "I love you too."

It makes sense with the kiss, kind of.

But it is not a hallucination.

It is a vision, and two weeks later he forgets.

 **3.**

The third time, they are both coming off shock. They are both weary and ridiculously happy; anything can bring relieved laughter from them.

Kronos is defeated, Luke is a hero, and they can admit they are in love.

The post-war euphoria hasn't abandoned them; the dead bodies that lie up in the amphitheatre don't faze them much.

Annabeth is sitting, her posture not favourable, in the strawberry fields and he is sprawled on the green grass, next to her, a basket of strawberries between them.

A lazy Sunday afternoon, and it is blissful.

"Percy, do you think there was another way?"

Her question sets him off. He knows who they are talking about- _what_ they are talking about, but he still asks "What?"

"Luke." Annabeth says simply, in a way of explanation. Sighing, she lays down slowly. "Do you think…do you think, I made the wrong choice? Did you? Was there another way?"

He thinks this over. It is the first time either of them have really thought of the war. "I don't think so. The prophecy…"

"Screw the prophecy." He is taken aback by the amount of venom that sentence possesses. "I mean, could _we_?"

"Do you love him, Annabeth?"

"I thought I did." She doesn't deny it, but doesn't agree either. "I'm not sure now."

He accepts this answer.

"But…do you love me?"

Annabeth looks startled. "Percy…"

"I'm just asking."

"Percy-"

"Do you or do you not?"

"Percy, I do. Oh gods, I do. I love you."

Percy squeezes his eyes shut. "Okay."

"No," she rolls into him. The smell of lemon reaches his nose. "No. I'm sorry. I haven't been fair to you. I do love you, Percy. I do. I love you."

She holds him tight. " _I love you."_

He believes her. He does. But his words burn in his mouth like ash."Okay. Okay. Thanks."

She nods into him. "You're welcome."

"For the record," he says. "I love you too."

 **4.**

The fourth time, he imagines, is how every teenager says and accepts love.

It is surprisingly, amazingly normal. No war, no death.

It is fun and forbidden.

He is looking over the cabin construction, lying on his bed, which has been resumed again after the short hiatus due to the Giant War.

The girl of his dreams bursts through the doors of his cabin, ai pulled up in a messy bun, frantic and shaking.

"Annabeth?"

Her name has hardly out of his mouth when she grabs his face with her hands, dragging him into a sitting position and crasing her lips onto his.

" Annab-"

" Don't." Annabeth said. "Don't talk. Just hold me, and just kiss me. Please."

He nodded. "Want to take this to the bed."

"Is that a question, Seaweed Brain?"

"You _do_ call me Seaweed Brain."

A laugh bubbles out of her. She is suddenly on him, possessive. He captures her tongue with his and she bears down on him. He knots one hand through her hair, and she makes a sudden jerk, ripping his shirt.

"Oops." They are both laughing, panting and kissing. Percy cannot hear anything except their heartbeats.

He doesn't need to hear anything else; he times their pulse, their matching breaths.

"I love you too, Annabeth."

"I love you, Percy."

The door creaks open, and a familiar voice asks tentatively, "Percy?"

He assumes it is Grover since there is a pause and then a high pitched scream.

He cannot be sure though, not above their raucous laughter.

 **5.**

The fifth is his worst.

There is a shroud, a laurel sapling and years worth of memories involved. Chiron talks solemnly, and he is aware of Thalia's blank look, Juniper's sobs, Annabeth's fake smile. Nico sits next to him in silence and Will is gazing into the fire (he knows he was his doctor, and even if everyone else did, Will did not forgive himself).

Jason and Piper sit further away. He can tell they don't want to intrude and this is what they went through with Leo before he burst in with a Titan girlfriend and a fancy dragon.

He sits through the one hour service and Grover's death is not the only one. But it is the only one he cares about.

He makes it to his cabin, with Annabeth in tow. They don't talk and Annabeth starts tearing up unexpectedly. He holds her till her shaking subsides and she calms down.

Then the true gravity settles in, and he barely makes it to his bathroom before his breakfast makes a reappearance. He is panting on the bathroom floor when Annabeth comes in and kneels down next to him.

"Percy? Are you alright?"

He shakes his head furiously, because it is the truth. "He's gone."

"I know."

"It isn't fair."

"Percy-"

"IT ISNT FUCKING FAIR!" He cannot stop the onslaught of tears anymore. A sob bubbles out of him and tears, tears, tears, tears, tears. "IT ISNT BLOODY FUCKING GODDAMN

FAIR!"

Annabeth hugs him tightly. "Oh gods, Percy I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

If this is how drowning feels he's never been gladder to be a son of Poseidon. It plain hurts.

"He was my best friend." He tells her through sobs, even though she knows. "Not Jason not Nico not Leo not Frank not anybody. Grover was my goddamned best fucking friend. "

"Okay. Okay, Percy."

"It isn't fair."

"No," Annabeth agreed fiercely. "It isn't. I know."

"I want him back. You got-you got Thalia back. Leo came back. He got Calypso back."

"Oh sweetie…"

He shook his head. "It just isn't _fair_."

Annabeth didn't answer. Tears continued to spill out of his eyes.

Then, later Annabeth started rubbing circles on his back.. "I love you."

"Grover is _dead_."

"I love you."

"He was my best friend and he is gone, Annabeth."

"I love you."

"He is dead."

She squeezed his hand. "I know. I still love you. I'm not your best friend. Grover is. But I am your lover, and I will love you."

He nodded, swiping at his eyes. "Okay."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

 **o.O.o**

 **1.**

Annabeth stands alone at Montauk, facing towards the sea. Thalia just left her a minute ago; because of the Iris Message she received from a frantic Phoebe.

He knows this because he is with her. He is with her every minute of the day, through her stoic mask, through her anger, through her grief, through her denial, through her acceptance.

He yearns to say the words that she wants- no, _needs_ \- to hear. To say it will get better, to say she will be okay, that these past few years weren't for naught.

The underwater kisses, the midnight banging, the walk through Paris nightlife.

The wars and battles. The deaths of friends, the endless prophecies.

The going ons.

And mainly, the love you's.

The love you _too's_.

Standing with her, looking at the vast blue waters his father rules, he finally understands his subconscious desire to say "I love you too." The way to show she wasn't just giving, she was getting a whole word- a whole _world_ \- to compensate for those betrayals, one sided relationships with Luke and her father and her mother and everyone in between.

That he loved her too.

His hand passes through her, she doesn't notice him.

His lips speak, she doesn't hear.

This time _he_ wants confirmation.

"I love you?"

She doesn't answer; it kind of is hard too, when you are buried six feet under the ground.

He gets another answer to his need of saying "I love you too."

Nobody ever answered him.

Nobody ever loves him too.

 **o.O.o**

 **That's a wrap, peeps. In case anyone was wondering, it was Annabeth who died.**

 **Please leave a review. ;)**


End file.
